


Concealment

by TLara (larissabernstein)



Series: Of Dreams and Names [3]
Category: Megillat Ester | Book of Esther, קבלה | Kabbala, תנ"ך | Tanakh
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Community: purimgifts, Gen, Midrash, Prophecy, Purim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larissabernstein/pseuds/TLara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third instalment in my ficlet series about Esther, the heroine of Purim. The idea was to let her give us an insight into moments of her life - short snippets that blend midrashic material with kabbalistic concepts and, of course, her own intimate POV voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concealment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hagar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagar/gifts).



They will call me concealment, in ages to come.

The morning star rises quietly and slowly, the myrtle grows into the tree of life. But hidden we stay until it is our time. The lots have been cast and haunt my nightly visions.

And it is my good Mordechai once again who spells out my dreams and reminds me of my duties. Clad in ashes, he urges me to don the royal garb and approach the king. The time is near. Will I find favour in his eyes?

Three nights and three days I keep my fast; 72 hours I deprive myself of food and drink. I pray to the One who split the sea with the force of His unpronounceable, hidden 72-letter name.  _Have you forgotten me? Where are you?_ I pray for His kindness, might and mercy that He had shown to Sarah in a past so distant and yet so very much my own. I want to believe in miracles.

When I prepare myself for the king, I let beauty disguise my holy task. My whole status as the Persian queen is but a costume; things are not what they appear to be. On the inside, I am clad in ashes just like Mordechai and my people. If I fail, we will crumble to dust; this is not simply about my life at stake. Yes, I am afraid - of failing my people, of letting darkness prevail where light should be.

The walk to Achashverosh’ throne seems long and daunting, with his idols sitting left and right in the hallway, their mute and powerless faces contorted into grotesque masks. But I am clothed in light - in the shine of the undying, infinite light. It is my armour, its divine sparks my guardians.

In the end, it does not matter what anyone calls me: Esther, Hadassah, Persian queen, exiled Jewess, the orphan girl. I have many names, but this is who I really am: I am a woman with a mission. Having seen the shadows of the gallows in my dreams, I am here to replant the tree of life where death was decreed.

For evil shall have no name. Not even one.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Image source: E.M. Lilien, Sabbath der Sabbathe (Princess Shabbat) - found the image of this artwork on the web.


End file.
